


(Do You See Me Now?) You Will Know My Name

by Coraleeveritas



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Wrestling, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:08:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22134544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coraleeveritas/pseuds/Coraleeveritas
Summary: "And making her way to the ring, accompanied by our current women's champion, Sansa Wolff, hailing from the island paradise of Tarth, the sapphire warrior, Brienne!"Her freckled face flushed red hot as the crowd roared, her reputation from years on the independent wrestling scene, not to mention the multiple successful championships held by her father twenty years ago, preceding her in ring debut on Westeros' only televised professional wrestling programme.Or, yet another AU no one needed or asked for :)
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 11
Kudos: 71





	(Do You See Me Now?) You Will Know My Name

**Author's Note:**

> This is what comes about after watching Fighting With My Family, a film about an hnderdog British girl becoming a wrestler with the WWE, and my strange predilection for finding the oddest AUs I can for Jaime/Brienne.
> 
> Anything you recognise in here does not belong to me and the title is from a song by Arch Enemy.
> 
> Thank you, as always, to Sandwhiches for her help with this. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy :)

Taking a deep breath as she shook out each of her limbs in turn, fully warmed up but still anxious about the next half hour of her life, Brienne waited for the first notes of her new theme tune to echo throughout the packed to capacity arena and stepped out into the spotlight.

"And making her way to the ring, accompanied by our current women's champion, Sansa Wolff, hailing from the island paradise of Tarth, the sapphire warrior, Brienne!"

Her freckled face flushed red hot as the crowd roared, her reputation from years on the independent wrestling scene, not to mention the multiple successful championships held by her father twenty years ago, preceding her in ring debut on Westeros' only televised professional wrestling programme.

Sansa had caught the eye of the Lannisters first, notwithstanding Brienne's lovingly antagonistic relationship with the elder brother of course, and her only friend on the indie circuit had won the LB title belt within months of her first fight, unseating the long standing Dragon Queen and setting up a feud that had opened the door for Brienne to enter through. She was the Red Wolff's sworn sword, a warrior trusted by the very best and yet, still allowed to be her own person with a storyline that just might make her a star.

At least that's what Tyrion had promised when he'd called her in for an initial pitch meeting. Thankfully, his brother, Jaime, hadn't been there, the ex-Olympic Judo champion turned mixed martial arts phenomenon having only a passing interest in the day to day running of his family business even after the injuries that took away his athletic career. He'd be at the commentary table tonight, alongside one of Brienne's childhood heroes, Nymeria, and somehow knowing the Phoenix of Dorne would have her back when Jaime couldn't support her on air eased the last of her nerves.

Back when they'd first met, him the veteran on the world stage and her just a newcomer smashing personal best after personal best in the women's pentathlon competition, Jaime had been all snark and bravado, goading her into putting all her skills and training on the line and seeing who was the better all round athlete in the pool, on the track, at the gym when everyone else had cleared out. And although the rumour mill whispered that judo hadn't always been his competitive sport of choice, a junior decathlon champion until his coach was dismissed for unknown reasons; doping offences, bribery and sexual assault amongst the most popular guesses, she was still surprised Jaime didn't ask her to meet him in the dojo to see if she could pick up martial arts just as quickly as he'd figured out fencing, her slight weight advantage versus his speed, fighting until one of them ended up pinned to the mat.

That thought had triggered some very specific dreams that allowed her to not only find a way to beat him fair and square, but to act on some unspoken tension that was building between them without consequence, imagining how it would be to make out and ride Jaime to an exquisite, enthusiastic climax after all their fighting was done.

But despite the, unbeknownst to Brienne, mutually erotic dreams about each other, the more time they spent together the more she realised how much they both needed a friend more than a two week fling. Tarth had sent less than half a dozen competitors that year and Jamie's teammates seemed to ignore him at all but the most compulsory events.

He was one of the loudest in the crowd the night she jumped into medal contention, all but lifting her off the borrowed horse outside the warm up arena in excitement. She was there to offer commiserations when he lost his footing in a match up that had been hyped in the media as the easiest road to the finals he could have ever hoped for, slipping off site for a few drinks that had Jaime sharing too many secrets by the time the sun rose again.

The Olympic village had felt smaller than it should have every time they ended up running into each other following that, like they were magnets that couldn't help but be attracted to each other even across the many miles of housing and sporting structures. The closing ceremony came too soon to make sense of what could come next for two people so unused to real relationships, even after they spent that last night together in her bed.

"And her opponent, accompanied to the ring by her brother, Theon, the war goddess, Yara Grey!"

A techno trance version of a piratical shanty began to play while Sansa ran through an impressive display of gymnastic ability and Brienne climbed the ropes, looming closer to the crowd, having learned how to best show off six feet plus of toned muscle and controlled power without falling into a bottomless pit of embarrassment. Sansa popped up from her back handspring to offer an encouraging smile as Brienne moved into her next pose, just as they'd practised to an empty arena after arriving in Kings Landing that morning. The twenty or so ladies who'd been invited onto the tour, spread out across the first few rows, had clapped and cheered, happy to see another outsider succeed in a world where Brienne should have been ridiculed not accepted as the powerhouse she could be. And they were the outsiders, even the pretty ones had known what is was like to fail to meet people's expectations.

Some, like Yara and Brienne herself, had come from families where wrestling seemed to be second nature, though others, like the Manderly sisters, who were hailed as the next best female tag team, and Brienne's latest carpool companion, Ygrittte, who'd joined the boys wrestling team in high school and gone on to be far north champion her junior year, had come to the Lannister brothers as keen amateurs rather than seasoned pros. There was nothing amateur about any of them now, though.

"I don't really fancy Brienne's chances here," Jaime's familiar voice filled the stadium as the last few spectators shuffled into their seats. "I mean, you can really see how much better Yara's looking since her injury worries last year ruled her out of competing for the championship. I think this match is just going to show how inexperienced Brienne is for this kind of stage."

"You really think that?" Nym retorted fearlessly as Brienne fought the urge to glare over her shoulder, Jaime playing a role just as much as she was, even though she wanted to forgo her character's famous stoicism for a moment to do more than smile at a dark haired little boy wearing a 'Sapphire Warrior' t-shirt. "If you ever took a look at what's happening out in the kingdoms, you'd know there's more to our new girl than meets the eye. I mean, do you not hear the crowd? They know what's up even if you don't."

"Oh, I know," he purred into his microphone. "I know very well what our sapphire goddess is capable of."

"And you're still betting against the sapphire warrior?" Nym smoothly corrected, her eye roll once the cameras had moved back to the ring almost audible. Everyone on the team knew Jaime wasn't supposed to play favourites. Tyrion had made sure it was written into his brother's version of a contract, rules and regulations to follow once he moved from talent scouting to the commentary team full time, wanting to be on the tour now things were getting interesting with a bulked up roster. Not to mention all the opportunities it was giving Brienne to get to learn all of Jaime's erogenous zones in some of Westeros' best mid-priced hotel rooms.

He'd run through some of his script over a protein heavy room service breakfast, coffee and kisses, promising that he wouldn't say or do anything to compromise her debut. It wasn't as if Tyrion didn't care that they were deeply in love with each other. Tonight was her debut, yet he had already offered her on the management team whenever they inevitably decided to make him an uncle. But there was still an angle to play, for now, just until he could figure out a way of making their relationship public knowledge without making it look like the honourable maid of Tarth had slept her way to the top.

"I'm not really a betting man. But if I was, I'd be looking at who wants it more. Getting to this point hasn't been at easy road for either of them, but if I know one thing about Brienne, it's that she's not going to start playing dirty just to say she's won." Jaime laughed, rapidly veering away from needling sarcasm and into the warm, fond tone she was more used to. "Now, if you want to bring Sansa Wolff into the equation, Nym, then it's a whole different ball game."

"You think she'd run interference? And Theon wouldn't do the same for his sister?"

"Please, that boy's as smitten as they come."

Nym smiled, falling into well planned patterns of give and take. Tyrion had changed the commentary team every few months until he'd found the best fit, a third point of view still to be decided on, though it wasn't for a lack of trying. "Who wouldn't be, in that position?"

"If you like that type, sure, it's a possibility."

"And here I was thinking Sansa Wolff was every man's type."

There was a beat of silence, the crowd waiting in anticipation for Jaime's famous catchphrase, the one that had been ad-libbed after beating The Mountain and never forgotten since. Brienne could practically feel his sigh of resignation, Jaime playing with the fans again, before the words left his mouth.

"There are no men like me."

Whether it was strictly true or not, Brienne hadn't come across anyone who could dispute his claim. Certainly, no other man had wanted her so fiercely. Some days it was hard to comprehend that if Jaime hadn't pushed himself to compete at the world stage one last time, her first time, he would have been nothing more to Brienne than a once famous athlete who happened to steal a handful of column inches after a motorcycle accident took his right hand and not the man who she would quite happily spend the rest of her life being loved and irritated by in equal measure.

"...three for three this last month alone."

"And undefeated in the Seven Stars tournament last year. Doesn't mean Yara hasn't got some less than honourable tricks up those bell sleeves that the Sapphire Warrior won't see coming."

Nym barked out a laugh. "Is it so hard for you to not root for the underdog?"

"Harder than you think."

It had been hard for anyone to root for her, at first, in spite of her being Tarth's only Olympic champion. Her sponsorships were always meagre, and trickled away to nothing once her name disappeared from the news cycle, taking with them any hope of her defending her medal. In the end, she'd finally allowed her father and uncles to train her to carry on their legacy.

Though it hadn't been how she would have preferred to leave the island, the promise of steady work on the wrestling scene finally allowed Brienne to give up the part time accountancy job she hated, her last days in the office allowing a weight to lift from her broad shoulders as she brought a new dream into reality.

"Well, they say the proof of the pudding is in the tasting," Jaime added, moments before the bell sounded and the referee stepped inside the squared circle. The woman looked between Brienne and Yara, nodded once, and then they were charging at each other like there really was a three generational dispute guiding each strike. 

Their matches were always carefully planned, but with Yara having been a leading stunt woman on the Iron Islands before her career change, and Brienne being seen as the best trainer-slash-teacher and an even better opponent, they had given them permission to play with their choreography a little depending on crowd reaction. The best woman on the night would win, Tyrion trusting in their skills and instincts and weaving a story for them rather than have everything revolve around his own specific vision for the year. It was refreshing for all the experienced women on the roster, but for Brienne, who, despite her winning ways, had so often been relegated to the part of overly quiet, overly dull terminator without the ability to form more than one or two emotions, it had come as a revelation.

"What a clothesline from Greyjoy, that has to make even the sapphire warrior take pause."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that," Nym drawled as Brienne over exaggerated the time it took to rise to her feet. The physicality of the wrestling world was one thing, but she had come to realise the impact of each blow was more about selling the move than the need for actual contact. "That girl's like wildfyre tonight."

"And for anyone out there who didn't study medieval weapons, wildfyre was supposedly green not blue."

"Tomato, tomato."

"And they're red. Where exactly are you going with this, Nym?"

While Jaime and Nym took shots at each other across the arena's loudspeakers, Brienne had managed to back Yara into the corner right by the commentary table. A tiny nod from the smaller woman was all it took to know it was time to set up Brienne's newest signature move.

The Evenfall Elbow had made her Uncle Endrew an unstoppable force in his day and her modified version had provided some of the loudest cheers of the evening during her final match as an independent performer. Bestowing it after a leap from the top rope had been Sansa's idea, gravity and the length of her limbs making the whole thing look more spectacular for the cameras.

"You hear that, Jaime?" Nym almost had to shout to be heard over the increasingly enthusiastic chants as Brienne began to climb up to the top turnbuckle. "The crowd knows what Brienne's about to do."

"She's not going for the elbow, Nym. She's not that reckless."

"There's nothing reckless about it from where I'm sitting."

"Where's that? One of Tarth's beaches?" Jaime risked sending Brienne a wink after the heavy elbow had landed, the crowd watching a stunned Yara slide to the floor to set the blonde woman up for a chance to show off her years of expert training.

"It's better than sitting on the fence."

"I may be persuaded into changing my mind," Jaime breathed as Brienne pulled her opponent into the middle of the ring, all power and as much grace as she could muster, though they both understood it wasn't quite time for a winner, Yara kicking out of the pin as the ref barely got to "Two."

"You've got this," Yara whispered as they squared off again, the crowd screaming Brienne's name while she delivered a series of sharp kicks to her opponent's midsection. "Just let's make it look a bit special, okay?"

"Leg drop to finish?"

She pulled a face, making it look like the headlock Brienne had pulled her into really did hurt. "How about the Sapphire Suplex?"

"Perfect."

It was Brienne's showiest finisher, a tour de force of strength and one she had practised with Yara until they were both aching all over. Best of all, it was hers and hers alone. Plus it would only take a few more back and forth jabs to set up so there'd be no pushback from Tyrion's advertisers for overrunning again.

"That's a nice forearm there by Yara but-"

"But that's a solid counter by Brienne. Stranger save me, how long are her arms?"

Nym chuckled. "Did I hear you correctly, Jaime? Did you praise our Warrior?"

"Just giving credit where credit's due. No one can fault me for that, surely."

Brienne rolled her eyes in response, knowing she'd have to be careful to avoid the cameras in future unless she wanted to be labelled as anti everything that The Warrior was supposed to stand for.

"Surely." Nym repeated, still sounding throughly amused.

"Yara's not giving up that easily, though."

Yara sprinted across the diagonal, Brienne crouching down ever so slightly so she could knock the pirate princess off balance before she could reach the middle of the ring. It took but a second to lift the smaller woman over her shoulder and throw her to the ground, where she lay motionless, ready to take the pin, just as they had planned.

"One. Two."

The crowd let out a roar as Sansa moved in a blur of scarlet and silver to push Theon off the apron. He bounced out of his corner, reaching out to grab Yara's leg and pull her away from the loss.

"And what about now?"

Jaime gasped as Nym spoke into her microphone, the referee finally reaching "Three" to the delight of all involved.

"Oh, I definitely stand corrected."

Smiling, Brienne bowed to the crowd, recognising those who cheered and booed her in equal measure, knowing it wouldn't be long before the storyline would force them to choose between her and Sansa. Win or lose though, even with the championship on the line, she would always remember how the applause echoed throughout the stadium for the Sapphire Warrior.

*********

"Gods, you're always glorious after a win, but tonight was something else," Jaime drawled, looking her up and down as he lounged against the wall by the locker room, her blue gym bag already hanging from his shoulder. "Tyr must have given you two free rein again to produce something like that."

She blinked, never becoming used to having Jaime, or anyone really, openly compliment her. "Thank you?"

"Thank me back at the hotel, Brie," he replied, stretching sinuously. Maybe his chair had been uncomfortable or maybe he was just teasing her with the flashes of his toned stomach, perfectly tanned flesh and golden hair. "There's a massage table waiting with your name on it."

"That's very sweet of you but I really don't need-"

"Tyrion found an angle," he beamed. "And it's perfect. I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner."

"Which is?"

"Love at first fight. Apparently I couldn't look bored watching you take down that kraken even though I tried so hard to ignore staring at your shoulders, I really did." Jaime sighed dramatically. "Not to mention your legs when you did those kicks. And Nym had to just about physically restrain me from proposing live on air after the somersault."

She had to try really hard not to baulk at hearing him joke about marriage. "You're being ridiculous. There's nothing remotely attractive about me jumping from the top rope."

"I'd beg to differ, darling, but that isn't new. I love everything you do."

Brienne wasn't so naive to realise that without the love and respect they had for each other she wouldn't be where she was now. Tyrion was already gushing to anyone who'd listen that Jaime was the one who vouched for her when the network executives said she was too masculine, too ugly, too much of a beast in their imagined world of nobility and deities. And when Petyr Baelish had wanted to make her a villain, Jaime had threatened to find another channel where the most honourable warrior ever to grace their screens wouldn't be just an afterthought.

Despite knowing how she could succeed on her own, she'd never had someone look after her the way Jaime wanted to.

"I love you, too," Brienne replied with a slight smile, reaching for her bag though finding only Jaime's outstretched hand waiting for her. "But that still doesn't mean your brother's plan makes sense. You've been to at least half my matches over the last few years so it's not like you've haven't seen me do any of that before."

"Yeah, but most of our audience don't know that. It's perfect."

Brienne wasn't sure how well the idea would go down with some of their more discerning and or shallow viewers, but, buoyed by her most recent win in the ring, she couldn't bring herself to care. At least not that night. Tomorrow they'd be in another town, with new fights to learn and new heroes to cheer, and she'd worry about the future then.

"Did you say massage table?"

Jaime smiled, gesturing down the hall. "After you, sweetling."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
